The World Masters
Page 12
CHAPTER XI
Ten days had passed since Victor Fargeau's conversation with Adelaidede Conde in Vienna. He had adhered to the decision that he had come toso suddenly under the spell of her wonderful eyes.
He had no family ties now. His mother had died several years before.His two sisters had married Frenchmen, and migrated with theirhusbands into Normandy. The estate in Alsace, which should have beenhis own patrimony, was lost, and the German Jew, Weinthal, held notonly that but the honour of his family, the good name of his deadfather, in his hands. So he had decided to cut himself adrift from hisnative land until it had become once more a part of France.
He had written to Petersburg and resigned his position on theDiplomatic Staff, and he had also written to headquarters resigninghis commission, and telling enough of his father's story to show that,since it was impossible for him now, as a man with a tarnished name,to hold his head up amongst his brother officers, there was nothingleft for him but retirement into civil life.
A reply had come back, to the effect that the circumstances of hisvery painful case were under consideration, and that he need notreport himself for duty until the general of the division to which hewas attached had given his decision.
He knew that this was equivalent to an acceptance of his resignation.Even though he had asked for it, his dismissal galled him. He knewperfectly well that he had only entered the German army for thepurposes of revenge, that in honest language he could only bedescribed as a traitor and a spy--a man who had deliberately abusedhis position and the confidence of his superiors to get possession ofplans of fortresses, details of manoeuvres, lines of communication,available rolling-stock, and points of entry which had been selectedfor possible invasion.
He had, in fact, done more than even Dreyfus was ever accused of, andnow, since everything else was lost, he was determined to take thelast step. He would throw off his enforced allegiance to Germany; hewould take the wreck of his fortunes with him to France, and he wouldoffer her his services and his information. He knew well enough thatthey would not be rejected, as his father's priceless discovery hadbeen. What he possessed would be bought eagerly by any of thechancelleries of Europe. The French Ministry of War would not refusehis services as it had refused his father's.
Even now some means might be found to checkmate theseEnglish-Americans. Already a scheme, daring and yet practicable, wasshaping itself in his mind, and if that succeeded he might stillachieve the one desire of his life and call Adelaide de Conde his own.For the present, although she had said nothing at that last interview,he felt that a change had come into their relationship. Her words hadbeen more formal and more measured, and her last kiss colder thanbefore. He felt that he was on his trial; that if he did not achievesomething great she was lost to him.
And then there was the other--this English-American--who had not onlygot the Great Secret, but the millions to put it into practice. Heknew her high ambitions. He knew that if she had to choose betweenlove for a man, and the fulfilment of a great project, the man wouldhave but little chance. But he had loved her since he knew the meaningof the word, and he had resolved to risk everything that was left tohim to win back what had once been within his grasp. If in the end hefailed and the other man won--well, so much the worse for the otherman.
And then there was Sophie Valdemar. Even if this English-American didtake Adelaide from him----But that was another matter, the fragment ofa possible destiny which still lay upon the knees of the gods. If theworst came to the worst, what would Russia not give to know all thathe knew and all that was contained in the only legacy that his fatherhad left him.
So thinking, he travelled to Paris, leaving his uniform behind him,and dressed just as an ordinary man about town, quietly, but withexquisite care and neatness.
As soon as he had settled himself in a modest hotel in one of thestreets of the Avenue de l'Ope, he wrote a discreetly-worded note toone of the secretaries of the Ministry of War, a former schoolfellowof his, with whom he had had previous communications of a confidentialsort, asking him to arrange a private interview for him with theMinister at the earliest possible date, and, if possible, to dine withhim the next evening. The next morning he called to pay his respectsto Madame de Bourbon and the marquise at the hotel they had taken inthe Avenue Neuilly.
He met the marquise alone in the salon. She received him quietly andalmost coldly--but this he had expected.
"So you have finally decided," she said. "I thought from your letterthat you would do so. How very different you look _en civile_! Really,although we naturally hate the sight of them, still, it must beadmitted that those German uniforms do make a good-looking man look hisbest."
"Yes," replied Victor, choking down his chagrin as best he might; "toa certain extent it is true, after all, that the feathers make thebird, and so, of course, the clothes make the man. Still, I'm afraid Ishall have to ask you to tolerate me for the future without my Germanplumage. As you say, I have made my decision. I have broken withGermany for ever. Henceforth, I am a son of France--and, Adelaide, Ihave come to ask a daughter of France to help me to serve her."
"Of France!" she echoed, drawing herself up, and looking at him with ahalf-angry glint in her eyes, "of what France? Of this nation of snobsand shopkeepers, ruled by a combination of stockbrokers, heavy-wittedbourgeoisie and political adventurers? or the old France--myFrance--the France of my ancestors, as it was in the days when thegreat Louis said: 'L'etat c'est moi'? The one is not worth saving; theother might be worth restoring."
"But this France of the bourgeoisie must first be saved, so that wemay make out of it the foundation for the throne of the great Louis.If we succeed, Adelaide, as it is still possible that we may do, weshall be strong enough to abolish the salic law and to enthrone you asEmpress of the French."
"Of France, if you please! My ancestors were Kings of France. Even theCorsican dared only style himself Emperor of the French. You seem toforget that I am a daughter of the Bourbons, a scion of the olderline, and that therefore France is my personal heritage. But come,"she went on, with a swift change of tone and manner, "it will be timeenough to talk about that when I am nearer to my inheritance than I amnow. You said that you wanted my help--how? What can I do now, leftalone as I am?"
"Not quite alone, Adelaide," he said, half reproachfully. "Have I notgiven up everything, even, as some would say, sacrificed honouritself, to help you to win back that which is your own by every right?And you can help me as no one else can. I have a friend in theMinistry of War--Gaston Leraulx, one of the secretaries. We wereschool-fellows and college friends. He is to dine with me to-night,and he will arrange an interview with the Minister of War. I shall askyou to come with me to that interview."
"What do you say, Victor? You wish me, a princess of the House ofBourbons to enter the bureau of one of these ministers--thesepoliticians who are ruling in the place of the old noblesse--men whomwe might perhaps have employed as lacqueys?"
"That is true," he replied; "but remember, Adelaide, that time bringsits differences. My ancestors were nobles when yours were kings. Ifthe old order of things is to be restored we must use these people asmeans to an end. I ask you to come with me to the Minister of War, sothat you may help me to convince him, from your own knowledge, of theterrible mistake that he made when he refused to entertain the projectthat my father placed before him.
"You can tell him that strange story of how my father in his despaircommitted his body and his secret to the sea; how the sea gave it upinto the hands of our worst enemies--the enemies of yesterday, to-day,and to-morrow--England and America; and how, even now, they arespending their millions upon that upon which France would not evenrisk a few paltry thousands.
"When I place my papers before him he will see that they are identicalwith my father's, and I shall give him others which will make itimpossible for him to doubt my faith; and you, you will be there tohelp me with your knowledge, with the prestige of your name, and withyour beauty. The General may be all that you think
him, but do notforget that he is a Frenchman, and that all Frenchmen who are notquite mad respect and admire at least two things----"
"And those are--what?" she said, taking a couple of steps towards him,and speaking in a low, earnest tone. "Am I to understand you to meanthat this man--I know that he is one of the most able men that Francecan boast of--might perhaps be made an instrument of?"
"I mean," said Victor, taking her hand unresistingly, "that GeneralDucros is himself an aristocrat, a man whose forefathers served yourswell; that he is a Frenchman whose spirit will recognise yours asbeing of similar lineage, whose eyes will not be blind, and whose earswill not be deaf. Surely, Adelaide, you see by this time what I mean:you see how, with you, I may succeed in everything, and, without you,I may fail. And, remember, if I fail there is an end of everything.This is our last hope. If it is not realised, these accursed Englishand Americans will be masters of the situation, masters of the world,indeed. Surely, Adelaide, for the sake of all that is past and allthat may be to come you will not say no?"
"No, Victor; I will not," she replied, still allowing her hand to restin his, and yet thinking the while of that other man, whose face wasever present to her eyes, and whose voice was ever echoing in herears. "I will visit this Minister of yours with you. His name is good,and perhaps he may not be unworthy of it. At any rate, he is notdisgraced by one of those new titles of the First or Second Empire. IfI can help you I will; trust me for that. When it is arranged send mea telegram and our carriage is at your disposal. Ah, who is this?"
At this moment the door opened, and the lacquey announced:
"Monsieur le Comte de Valdemar; Ma'm'selle la Comtesse de Valdemar."
Victor Fargeau saw at a glance that the count and Sophie were dressedin half-mourning, and instantly divined that their visit was one ofcondolence. This, of course, gave him a most excellent excuse to makehis adieux.
There was just a glimmer of taunting mockery in Sophie's brillianteyes as she recognised the dashing young cavalry officer in the sobergarb of civil life, but it passed like a flash, and as they shookhands she said:
"A most unexpected meeting, captain!" And then, with a look of frankchallenge, "No doubt it is most important business that has broughtyou to Paris _en civile_."
"It is not without importance, countess, at least to my own poor andpresently insignificant self. Whether," he went on, with a swiftinvoluntary glance at Adelaide, who was receiving the condolences ofthe count, "it will ever be of importance to others is one of thesecrets of fate; and, if so, you, who are no doubt justly creditedwith knowing half the secrets of Europe, will probably be one of thefirst to discover the fact."
"I wonder whether that is intended for a compliment or the reverse,"said Sophie, with a look of challenge coming back into her eyes. "Yousee, captain, there are two sorts of people who are supposed to knoweverything--diplomatists and spies."
Her voice dropped almost to a whisper as she spoke the last word.
Victor did his best to preserve his composure, but Sophie's watchfuleyes saw that the shot had gone home; still, the next moment hereplied, with the stiff wooden-doll bow of the German officer, andwithout a tremor in his voice:
"It would be quite impossible that mam'selle could be anything but oneof the two."
As he raised his head she looked into his eyes again, and laughedoutright.
"Well hit, captain! that was very nicely put. I think you and I wouldmake better friends than enemies, and in proof of my belief, let metell you a secret which is not of Europe. An Anglo-American syndicatehas for some reason or other leased several square miles round theMagnetic Pole in Boothia Land, British North America."
"Really! And might I ask why? It doesn't seem to be a very profitableinvestment in landed property."
"Who knows?" said Sophie, with a little shrug of her shapelyshoulders. "These English and Americans, you know, are always doingthe maddest things. I shouldn't wonder if they intended to turn the_Aurora borealis_ into electric light for Chicago."
"Nor I," said Victor. "And now, if you will permit me, I must say Aurevoir."
"I wonder how much our ex-captain really knows, and if my dear friendAdelaide here knows anything or not," said Sophie, in her soul, whenVictor had made his adieux and the door closed behind him.